22
Cortis sat alone in his tent, his eyes closed, listening to the sounds of activity in the camp. Soldiers marched back and forth, breaking down the tents, moving quickly, not wasting any effort. Only the best of the guard were still here. His personal selections. Those who would not question any order.
He opened his eyes and looked at his right hand, cupped in his left, his long fingers curled into claws. He turned his hand over, and for a moment in the flickering light of the fire his nails were long and yellow and no longer human.
‘Cantor Cortis.’ The guard snapped into a salute.
Cortis nodded a reply. Rokley. That was his name. An eager young pup. He had definite potential.
‘The patrol has returned to Redmondis. We shadowed them the entire way and they were none the wiser.’
‘Goo
